Dreaming of Wings

A snail sat and thought about wings
till her brain grew muddlier and muddlier.
She climbed up high and under a leaf,
where butterflies fed on a buddleia.

She wasn't sure what to do next.
Her head spun if she tried to look down.
So she tucked herself inside her shell,
which is where we find her now

dreaming of wings and things that fly;
of butterflies, hoverflies, bees,
till, when she wakes, a braver snail,
she will never again fear trees.

© Celia Warren 2020

Mr PP went to socially-distanced U3A archery today and thoroughly enjoyed it. I sorted through piles of knitting and crochet patterns, and they are now organised in file pockets in files. Howzat?! (Been on my to-do list for years!)

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